


I'll be watching

by Axolotl7



Series: Fluffy one-shots - Six Months May was "Away" from Shield [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:10:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5064280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axolotl7/pseuds/Axolotl7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda May doesn't just abandon her ducklings for six months.</p><p> </p><p>For the six months pre-series 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll be watching

Skye’s POV

Finally!

Finally they are getting close to the guy who’d seemingly single-handedly infiltrated their systems, past firewalls that she’d coded thank you very much, simply in order to spy upon them. Their video feed compromised, they’d had to be incredibly cautious about what they did on the base, what meetings were held, what conference calls thrown up on the big screen. 

When she’d told Phil a few days ago (God! Was it only a few days?!) he had been less than impressed at the spy but also less concerned than she’d expected given the confidential nature of … well pretty much EVERYTHING that they deal with on a daily basis.

_“Phil, good to see you. Do you have a minute?” He’d tried to interrupt but she’d spoken over him forcefully with intent eyebrow waggling as well to really emphasise the importance. “There’s something I need to show you,” she’d thrown out possibly a little too loudly but she needed something to explain her suddenly scooting round the desk, forcing her laptop onto his lap and leaning in close ostensibly to point at something on the blank screen so that she could whisper, “Don’t look alarmed.”_

_“Should I be alarmed?” he’d asked with a raised eyebrow at her antics but not much else._

_“I’m saying: don’t,” she’d whispered back quickly loudly following it with, “THERE YOU SEE. Whatever I say next just play it cool.”_

_“You know if there’s one thing you could say that would make someone alarmed...” he advised her with a smile._

_She hadn’t felt the need to point out how unbelievably bad he’d been at introducing the concept that she might have some minute amount of DNA originating not quite of this Earth. Epic fail. She’d explained about the incursion amidst a plethora of cover topics of what exactly she might have needed to show him urgently on her laptop that was both not classified top secret, not about any current base personnel and not about anything of particular important to Shield or the world as a whole._

_It’d been awkward._

_Tracking down or dragging the others off to various locations that weren’t covered by security footage had been both weird and in some cases particularly entertaining. The only places without video cameras being, of course, inside the showers and toilet cubicles. So not gonna live some of those things down._

It’d been more hellish than awkward with them all having to plan ahead every second of every day not to mention them all suffering the paranoid feeling of being watched all the time. Well, no, not paranoid she supposes as they were in fact being watched. Everyone had been tense and particularly irritable, mainly at her thank you very much indeedy, whilst she’d been attempting to trace the hack without tipping off the hacker that she’d discovered his infiltration. Then out of nowhere she’d suddenly caught him this very morning! 

They’d followed the trail to a small coffee house that proudly proclaims it has ‘the wifi ability.’ A matronly lady bustles about the counters. Though the place is busy with the retired and the casually lunching, there’s only the one customer that she can discern with a pad. The slight electric blue glow the only thing readily visible from the dark booth in the back corner. She’s been in here for only a few minutes but she’s already been forced, by a combination of motherly caring, emotional blackmail and fundamentally manipulating ‘oh go on’s, to order both coffee and pie, which she didn’t really want but has ended up eating and is actually quite good.

A crash of crockery breaking upon the floor causes her to drop her fork half way on its journey to her mouth with another mouth-watering chunk of pie and spin about startled. She can immediately conclude that there is no cause for alarm. A waitress has simply dropped a tray of cups together with what was probably a rather expensive teapot if she can discern anything from the beautifully delicate flower pattern still visible on the larger shards of white porcelain beneath spilled tea. She is unbelievably glad that she isn’t the cause of the crash. 

The delicate ring of the chime above the door announces the entry of a new customer amidst the chaos. She spins immediately uncaring of attracting anyone’s attention with the hasty action. Or the exit of a customer. 

A quick look back at the booth confirms it – her target has scarpered.

She flies out of the cafe, grabbing the strap of her cover satchel and battering the door wide open out of her way. She scans left, various people. All decidedly not hurrying. Coats, jackets, hats. None appear at all suspicious. Not that anyone with this much talent would be hurrying or looking suspicious. Scans right, same result. Turns back left. Black catches at the corner of her eye. Gut or something is telling her to look closer at this one as the black clad figure turns a corner out of sight. 

Then she’s running, feet pounding loudly against the pavement, pedestrians shifting left and right with typical distain for her urgency.

Her hand palms her icer in preparation, bringing it to her side, ready. She will not be taken by surprise again by what is obviously a professional. She raises the icer up and takes a moment to inhale, to regulate her breathing as she’s been trained before flinging herself around the corner, heart pounding through her ears in anticipation of an attack.

There’s a gun and two knives immediately apparent.

They’re on the ground less than a meter away.

There’s a lone figure kneeling half way down the dead end alleyway, black clothing, back to her with fingers entwined atop her head. Not an immediate threat.

“Stay right there,” she growls trying to sound threatening. She keys her comms with a light touch to her left ear, aim never wavering, “I’ve got the perp. Alleyway south side.”

“How far out are your back up?” the kneeling figure asks.

“May?!”

 

 

“I need to be gone before they arrive, Skye” she says calmly. As though Skye hasn’t got a gun trained on her back whilst she kneels unarmed in an alleyway.

“YOU’RE the one spying on us?”

“I thought it’d take a little while longer for you to notice.”

“Yeah well...” she’s kind of lost for words at that. “You suck at hacking by the way,” and no, she’s not feeling defensive at all that the first thing May’s said to her in what seems like forever sounds like a criticism.

“It’s been a while,” May says and although her brain knows that May’s probably referring to the hacking it is somehow being interpreted by her mind as meaning so much more. It’s been more than a while. It feels like it’s been forever. She just can’t find the words to say it.

May interrupts the silence that she’s fallen into, “Can I get up?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sure.” And why does she always find herself feeling like a silly child in front of May?!

“Do you want to point the gun somewhere else?” It’s only once May’s drawn her attention to the fact that she’s still pointing the gun at her that she really notices. Shit, it’s like her training and mind have both completely abandoned her. Way to look like a complete fool there Skye!

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that,” she mutters quickly re-securing the weapon at the small of her back, pulling her t-shirt and jacket back over the top with a slight shudder at the cold chill of the metal as it touches her bare skin. It’s easy to apologise. It just rolls off the tongue. Why can’t she find the words to apologise for everything else? Why don’t those regrets find their way to roll from her tongue?

“I wouldn’t want you to attack me by mistake,” comes May’s voice through her thoughts. No, she wouldn’t want to be attacked. Not by mistake. Certainly not on purpose. Certainly not by someone she trained. All Anakin Skyewalker turning to the dark side of the force against her master. Her trainer. Her SO. Her friend. Her family. Oh no, wouldn’t want her to attack _by mistake_.

“So were you...”

“Just checking everyone’s okay.”

“Oh.” So, May’s not gone then. Not cutting all ties and leaving them after their betrayals. Not completely disappeared and vanished without a trace. 

“You need to keep your right leg straighter when you rotate out on the spin. Your clockwise is good but it’s throwing your balance off when you go anti.”

“Oh.” May was watching her train. May was watching her. When she was training. May.

Watching her and offering pointers to help her improve. 

“You should keep sparring.” She hadn’t honestly wanted to spar with anyone. Inviting someone else to spar seemed a little too close to admitting that May wasn’t coming back.

“Bobbi-”

“Not Bobbi,” May interrupts firmly. May still doesn’t trust Bobbi. After everything that they’ve all been through. Sure Bobbi betrayed them but she was doing it for the right reasons, she was loyal to Shield just not necessarily to their little brand of Shield, and she’d apologised. She’d lost count of the numbers of times Bobbi had apologised, in words and actions, trying to make amends, trying to make things right. It had even looked like May and Bobbi had become almost friends again. It had looked like May understood, like she had maybe even forgiven Bobbi for everything. Her shock must show on her face. May doesn’t forgive Bobbi for the betrayal. If she doesn’t forgive Bobbi then- “We’re having enough trouble keeping Agent Morse off that leg without you suggesting being a sparring partner. The woman doesn’t know the meaning of taking it easy,” May explains with a sigh and rolling eyes.

 

“Oh.” Really? Is that going to be her entire contribution to this conversation? She hasn’t seen May in months, well okay maybe weeks is more accurate but it still feels like forever.

May snorts as though she’s thinking the same thoughts at her lack of verbosity. “You should spar with Mack.”

“Mack?!?” He’s ... well ... he’s huge!

“Practice using his bigger form against him. Be more nimble. Most of the Hydra types you’ll come up against will fit into that similar body – big, strong, increased reach. Mindset likely to match too. They’ll be overconfident, underestimate you because you’re a woman, because you’re smaller. Practice. Prove them wrong.”

“You know I have these powers now...”

“I know,” May retorts dryly, her eyes going flinty. Ah yes. Of course she knows. She’s firsthand experience from when you attacked her without provocation and threw her across a courtyard, remember! Great idea to remind her once again that you’re a complete screw up, Skye!

“About that-” she starts with a swallow to moisten her suddenly incredibly dry mouth.

“I don’t want to hear it, Skye,” May says firmly and walks straight past her to collect her weapons up from the ground. Of course May doesn’t want to hear it. There’s no way that anything she can say will make this any better. She keeps apologising but ‘sorry’ just isn’t good enough. There’s nothing that she can say to make it okay, no explanation that justifies her actions. She attacked May. A woman that she idolised, a woman that had been nothing but kind to her... well in her May-like way at least, a woman that had trained her, her SO. And she’d attacked her. When May was trying to sort things out, looking to her for help, she’d attacked her. No one can forgive that. She doesn’t deserve forgiveness. She _attacked_ May. The thought still brings a lump to her throat, makes her stomach rebel against the lead weight sitting there. 

“I’m sorry,” it still mumbles out and she hears May’s sigh behind her.

“I said: I don’t want to hear it, Skye. Don’t make me repeat myself,” May says firmly.

She presses her hands over her mouth in an attempt to try and disguise the half choked sob that overtakes her on a gasping inhale. She can feel her eyes becoming watery, can feel her lip starting to quiver slightly. Everything they had, all the caring, and she’s ruined it all.

“Skye,” May chides and it’s so exactly like she’d chide her before... before everything, before she ruined it all. There’s another sigh as May steps back in front of her, obviously taking a good luck at her standing here sobbing like a baby. God she really is pathetic. “Look at me, Skye, because I am only going to say this once more,” May half growls in frustration. She knows May doesn’t want to hear it, she knows that alright but it doesn’t stop her wanting to apologise again anyway.

She can’t force her chin to lift or her hands to move from her eyes though, she can’t bear to see the disappointment again, not when it comes from someone like May. “Oh for...” May exhales and May’s hands on her wrists make the decision for her, pulling them out of the way despite her attempts to resist the motion. The next thing she feels is as May’s arms wrap around her back, pulling her into a hug that she just knows the other woman will never repeat. She cries audibly then, hiding her face down against a hard shoulder to hide her tears. Arms firmly wrapped around May’s back, hands fisted in her jacket as though if she can just hold on tightly enough then May can never leave her. 

“I forgive you. Understand?” May asks almost half aggressively. “Now, stop apologising about it. You’re driving me insane. And yourself from the looks of things.”

“I...” she starts but her words don’t appear to want to come out over a choked up throat.

“So help me God if you’re about to say you’re sorry again I am gonna land you on your ass!” May growls.

That makes her laugh as May almost certainly intended.

“Now. I don’t do hugs and I don’t do reassurance. So do not make me do this again,” May says in a tone far softer than her usual. Skye finds herself thinking that whatever May says she is actually very good at both the hugging and the reassuring.

May hugs her tighter for an instant and then releases and she somehow manages to get her own arms to let go their frantic grasp, knowing that May wants free of the hug that she probably feels more than a little uncomfortable about giving so freely. She can’t honestly believe May hugged her. May – the least tactile person she knows, the one most likely to run away screaming from a hug if she tried it. Hugged her – the one who betrayed her, who attacked her, one she never even wanted on the team in the first place, ladies and gentleman one Skye, oooh Daisy Johnson, and why is it only now that she’s realised that May has never once called her Daisy and yet it doesn’t bother her even in the slightest?

“Hunter too.”

“Wah?” Real eloquent there, Skye. 

“Spar with Hunter too sometime. He might not look much but he’s scrappy. Street smart. He’s a dirty fighter, it’ll be good for you.”

“Oh. Er ... okay?”

“This is important, Skye,” May berates only with a stern tone and a look.

“Yes, I – Yes. I mean I will. I’ll spar more. With Mack and Hunter. Whatever you say.” Anything you say she wants to add, anything at all, wants to keep adding to her ramble in absolute gratitude to this wonder of a woman who is still _despite everything_ trying to help her.

“And you’ll keep your right leg straight when you spin a kick?” May continues.

“Yes, I mean... I’ll try.”

“You’d better. I can still set you to running laps, you know.” I’m still your SO is what she hears, what she wants to hear. After all who else would care that she spars with Hunter and Mack or bother to look in on her to give her advice about her form.

“Yes, ma’am,” she mocks salutes with a still slightly watery grin back at May’s scowl.

“I’ll be watching,” May mock threatens with a tight lipped smile and her heart leaps up into her throat at the promise.

 

_“Daisy, we are inbound. What’s your position?” comes the electrostatic crackle of Mack’s voice over the comms._

 

“Will you-”

“I’ll see you around,” May interrupts hurriedly, grabbing at the heavier weight of the Glock with one hand as fingers scoop up the cartridge with the other. Checking perfunctorily the level of ammo before slotting it smoothly back in place. A motion perfected by practice. Hands flicking the safety on before re-holstering the weapon. Knives next concealed in a boot or an inside seam located by touch alone.

“But I-”

“You might even see me too,” May tries to go for the like hearted joke. 

She appreciates the attempt, she really does, but it falls very flat when all she can think is that May’s leaving. May is leaving her again. Leaving and she doesn’t even know when or if she’ll see her again.

“Promise me?” she appreciates it might have come out like a scared little girl voice but she can’t really help that fact – she feels like a scared little girl right now.

May’s eyes meet hers with surprise, a frown lining her features as she responds, “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Skye.”

“What if-” I need you, what if we need you, she would have finished.

“I’ll be watching.”

May doesn’t do promises she says but that, that right there, that’s a promise. One she can rely upon. May won’t just leave them to fend for themselves. Whatever’s going on, May’s checking up on them, keeping tabs. She’ll be there if she’s needed. _When_ she’s needed. 

It’s all the reassurance May’s giving but it is exactly what she needs to hear. Now she just needs to decide what to tell Phil when she lets the next hack through to their video feed, because there is no way on God’s Green Earth that she is cutting May out of that loop. 

 

‘I’ll be watching’ – it’s a promise. 

 

 

x


End file.
